


*Bookworm* // Harry Styles One Shot

by handalove



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, I think this is cute, One Direction One Shot, chai tea latte, falling in love in a cafe sort of thing, harry falls for a girl who always has her nose in a good book, harry styles one shot, harry styles oneshot, you know you want it to happen to you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 04:53:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1128558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handalove/pseuds/handalove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry visits a local coffee shop, a lot, not because of the coffee or the tea but because of the girl who sat in the back and always had her nose in a book. One day he wants to befriend her so he does, and he ends up being the best book she's ever read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	*Bookworm* // Harry Styles One Shot

Harry hurried into the local coffee shop around the corner from his house and finally took his hands out of his pockets. He had managed to regain feeling in his fingertips thankfully, as well as in his nose. He assumed he’d looked like Rudolph the whole way here, but he was in such a hurry he didn’t mind.

Outside it had been raining off and on since morning and he needed something warm to run through his body. He immediately knew the perfect spot and just like he had hoped there sat the girl in her usual spot in the back of the room.

He didn’t want to admit she was the sole reason he had decided to come here, this little coffee shop could brew a mean cuppa tea or cup of joe, but she definitely was an incentive. Wait, what was Harry even thinking. He didn’t even know the girl. He didn’t even know her name nor had he even interacted with her, ever. But that didn’t stop him from mindlessly letting her slip into his train of thought like a cold draft under a gap in a door.

But there she sat.

Usual table for two. Usual chair where she could watch the hustle and bustle of what was going on around her. But she never choose to watch any of that. Harry noted that every time he came by, which was a lot, she always had her nose pressed into the pages of a thick book. The types of books with old brown and other dark colored spines that looked like they had been through war and had been stored in old library basements. The books seemed to get thicker every time he spotted her sitting there. Always on her own, always reading as if her life depended on it. And maybe it did.

Harry tossed ideas around as to why she would be so consumed by literature. Maybe she was a uni student majoring in English or composition or something else that probably made her 100x’s smarter than himself. Things like that intimidated him.

Harry thought of himself as a pretty intellectual person. Not incredibly gifted with a large vocabulary, seeing how he didn’t properly finish school, but he could only imagine the things this girl had read of and could barely contemplate how much her brain had been poured with words of wisdom and words so foreign to him it was probably like reading Shakespeare, which he tried to read in primarily school but just didn’t care for.

He could almost bet she understood Shakespeare though. Bet she knew the words by heart, and if not could at least decipher their true meaning like figuring out a new language or something. She probably knew many languages also.

Harry realized he was smiling off in her general direction and for the first time in about a month she actually broke her eyes from the pages and looked up at him.

He was almost so surprised he didn’t know what to do. She’s only ever looked at him about once amongst all the times he had come here. Only one time could he remember them ever meeting eyes. But he could remember it almost perfectly.

It was one of the times she had just arrived and was only just siting down at her familiar table. Harry caught her just as she had pulled her books out of her backpack and pushed her hair out of her face just in time to meet eyes with the green eyed boy who had seen her many times before.

That time she didn’t even smile, but instead carried on as if she hadn’t even seen him. Harry remembered being hurt and being confused as why she wouldn’t even offer a smile.

But this time was different.

All he had was a second, no, maybe a spilt second to smile a bit bigger before she ducked her eyes back down, the remnants of a returned smile vanishing from her face instantly. He was even surprised by how much it warmed him inside to know she had actually smiled this time.

Harry looked towards the counter to break the tension and then back at her to see her sweep her hair over her left shoulder. Her hair was light brown, almost like his. But her ends are dyed purple. Something he would expect from a really trendy chick wearing docs and high waisted shorts, not from the quiet girl who reads for a living. But he likes it.

He finally made his way to the counter to order. While waiting behind a few people in line Harry rocked on his heels again, sneaking glances at this girl who was occupying much more of his mind than he would like.

Harry could tell she doesn’t wear a lot of makeup, but her lips were faintly red as if her Chapstick was tented or cherry flavored or something sweet. 

She was wearing a grey oversized sweater and I wool lined denim jacket hung over the back of her chair. Harry watched from the corner of his eye as she shifted in her seat crossing her legs behind one another. This is the most movement he’s every seen from her.

Once he’s able to order a proposition pops into Harry’s mind. He asks the barista girl if she remembers what the girl off in the corner ordered. He’s whispering and is grateful the barista catches on.

"A chai tea latte," she just about whispered back. Harry nodded with a smile.

"I’ll take two of those," he said before pulling his money out.

Before he really knew what he was doing, he had two disposable cups in his hands and was taking steps over to the girls table. He clearly didn’t think any of this through. He simply sat down in the chair across from this mystery girl and set a cup down directly in front of her. By then she had barely put the book down but her mouth was slightly open and her eyes looked like she’s a deer in the headlights. Harry refrained himself from smirking at how alert she looks. 

"Hiii," was all he could say. That’s all he can force out of his air canal. All that can pass his lips in front of her. He felt like slamming himself conscious but he’s nervous. He realized he was staring when he noticed she had a pair of hazel eyes. But these are like hazel eyes he’s never seen before. Harry doesn’t even know where the feeling came from, but the only thing he can think about is how beautiful she looks here in her natural habitat, but now he’s intruded and she’s not accustomed to this, clearly. 

"Can I help you?" she asked in an American accent. He’s both stunned and a bit unsurprised because now this almost assures him she is in fact a student. 

"I brought you a chai tea latte," he managed to say without stuttering. He said it matter-of-factly as if she must know that a chai tea latte is a peace offering you make to a new friend. He watched her eyes grow wider, if even possible, and he noted that she’s got really big eyes. The girl sat her book down and marked her place with a leather bookmark. 

"Um…"

"The barista said it’s what you ordered. It is what you ordered, right?" Harry asked wondering if maybe she hates chai tea lattes or maybe she’s allergic. Maybe there has been a mistake. If that’s the case his chances of befriending this girl were dwindling down quite quickly.

"Yes.." She replied her voice small just like the way she looked sitting by herself almost every day. Harry sighed a breath of relief before raising his own cup up in the air.

"Oh well drink up before it gets cold," he told her bringing his own cup to his lips. She wrapped a hand around hers before looking back at him.

"Why are you-?"

"Forgive me for being so informal, I didn’t ask for your name?" Harry found himself saying, so smooth as if he does this each day, but he can feel his heart beat speeding up. He really isn’t as smooth as everyone makes him out to be. Sure he can spit some game if a girl is already flirting with him and practically throwing herself at him. He was used to scenarios like this and knew how to go along with it. But he was a wreck around a pretty girl who he wanted to get to know better.

"Uh- it’s Autumn.” Autumn was now at the top of his pretty girl list.

"Nice to meet you Autumn I’m-"

"I know who you are," she cut him off halfway through his own name.

"Oh okay," he replied unsure of what to say now, because she was either annoyed by him or just scared. He can’t really tell. He hoped it was neither though.

"Why..did you..uh-" she tried to say and Harry completed understood because he was at a lost for words as well.

"I just…I always see you here and I thought I’d finally say hi," he admitted honestly. He asks himself if that sounded to creepy and he sure hopes not. He also hoped she appreciated the honesty he was presenting because if not he was sure she might ask him to leave. That was a worst case scenario though, right?

"Okay…" She said leaving Harry at a lost for words again.

There was an awkward silence between them and Harry rubs his palms over his jeans. He wants to run back outside into the chilly London air because he seems to be burning up right now.

"You like books?" He blurted out after far too many moments of silence went by between them. Her eyebrows knitted together a bit before she nodded. He reminds himself to later smack himself for that one.

"I do yeah. How’d you figure that out?" She asked and for a second Harry wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic. But she has to be because he could have sworn he saw her lip want to curl up into a smile, but she refrained. 

He let out what was meant to be a soft laugh but kind of sounds like a crock before gesturing to her book.

"Because you always bring a library with you," Harry said and for the first time she actually just about fully smiled. And it was beautiful. Harry wasn’t even being blunt or anything, cause she just had a really pretty smile. Pretty teeth, pretty lips, just a smile that showed in her eyes and the small lines around her mouth. It nearly deprived Harry of his air supple though seeing her like that.

"Well yeah, I like to read," she confirmed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Her hair looked really soft, even from across the wooden table.

Harry’s smiled big and watched as she finally took a sip of the drink he had gotten her.

"Thanks, I had finished mine. How much do I owe you," Autumn said, picking up her empty cup to reveal there was no liquid to slosh around. She also started reaching into her book bag for what Harry assumed was a wallet. 

"Oh no no, it was on me," he instantly said and she looked at him, her hands frozen in her bag.

"Are you sure?" She asked and Harry couldn’t believe the hospitality she held.

"Oh course." 

"Well okay then, I guess I’ll owe you," she commended and Harry didn’t mind that at all.

;

Harry felt quite hipster due to all of his cafe visits he had been making recently. He admitted he wasn’t really sure what most hipsters did at busy cafes though, because he spent his time chatting with a girl who he gladly would call a friend now. He also wasn’t sure if she would say the same thing about him though.

It was apparent from the start that Autumn was guarded and perhaps that was why Harry was even more interested. There was just something about her that made him want to talk with her even more. So that’s exactly what he did.

Harry started meeting with Autumn at least once a week. Whenever he could find time from his busy schedule he would plan to stop by the coffee shop and he found he was making more and more time available to sit with her. She was a priority that he hadn’t even realized he had acquired, but he was okay with it.

At a usual time every week he’d make his way into the shop and now she’d always smile him over. And just that smile alone was enough to make him relax and take a step back from whatever he had just been doing. She was a type of therapy that came in a cup of tea and pretty smile.

They’d sit and talk for a few hours with one another and just seemed to lose track of time. Harry found himself hoping that Autumn didn’t mind speaking with him instead of reading. For Harry though it was a fine trade because he always loved to hear what she had to say.

"You’ve never read The Fault In our Stars?" He asked with wide eyes. He had slowly realized most of the books on her reading list he had never heard of before, mostly because they were on a whole different level of comprehension for him.

"I’m not into teen hipster books all to much," she admitted pressing her lips together, which Harry noted were a shade of pink today. Pink like the color you paint a little girl’s room, not pink like hello kitty pink.

"Well you should it’s a fine read,” he replied and Autumn narrowed her eyes at him making him instantly feel nervous.

"Oh, you’ve read it?" Autumn asked and he gave a firm nod.

"My sister did and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about, so I gave it a read," Harry admitted though he hadn’t told anyone about it. He hadn’t even meant to tell Autumn about it, but he did and it was too late to make up a fake story.

Harry watched Autumn’s eyes go from accusing to curious, a change that was easy to see since he stared into her eyes a lot more than he probably should have.

"What’s your sister like?" She asked him launching Harry into a long description of the beauty that was his sister. And that’s what he liked about talking with Autumn, she didn’t just let him ask her questions, she asked them right back. There was an even balance between the two and even though he could listen to the way she spoke all day, he appreciated that she wanted to hear what he had to say as well.

"You’d like her," he concluded after telling a few stories that made Autumn laugh. He noted her laugh was quite unique. Like Niall’s but not nearly as annoying. It was one that might turn heads in a room, but would definitely make someone feel good inside at the sight and sound of a girl enjoying herself so much that a loud chuckle would be allowed to escape her lips. And when it did escape from her, her eyes got big and she’d immediately cover her mouth in protest. Harry only felt like laughing along with her though, because it seemed like the most joyous thing to do.

"I bet I would," she replied and Harry can’t help but stare. They’ve been meeting for almost a month now but he was still too nervous to ask her to go somewhere else with him besides this coffee shop that they’ve made their own.

He had asked why she didn’t choose to be at the local Starbucks up the street but again she said she wasn’t into that whole scene. She claimed she enjoyed coffee shops that were quiet and homey over ones that were full of arrogant people staying and going. And that made a lot of sense.

"I used to work at one though, so I guess I’m a bit of a hypocrite," she conferred with a little chuckle that Harry returned.

"I don’t think so," Harry said and went on to ask if she worked somewhere now.

"At the library on my school campus," she said and Harry remembered laughing a lot at that one. All Autumn did was shuffle in her seat.

"So you’re a librarian," Harry said and though he wanted to try not to smirk, he sorta of did and he’s sure she caught it.

"I am…yeah,” she replied

"How ironic is that,” Harry let slip off his lips as he leaned back in the wooden chair.

;

Autumn didn’t want to admit she kept checking her phone for the time, but she was. It was already twenty minutes past the time she had been waiting for, now all she was doing was looking at the minutes pass further and kept looking at the door in hopes he would walk in.

And she felt guilty. Guilty because he wasn’t obligated to even show up, and she knew that and obviously he knew that. But still. By this time on Friday’s he would usually be here by now and he’d have already asked her how her week had been and she would sum up everything that had happened to her in about a sentence or two, then he would go on to describe how his week had been. And his weeks were always filled to the brim with stories that were worthy to be told. She hadn’t realized it before but perhaps one of Harry’s best qualities was the way he talked. She wasn’t even sure if it was a quality or trait or whatever, but it was one of her favorite things. (Autumn hadn’t dared allowed herself to have a list of things she liked about him, but it was inevitable the more time they spent together.)

She also felt guilty because at times it seemed she was just using him for his stories. She loved to hear about his life and honestly just loved to see how different it was from her own. She didn’t care if he stumbled on his words and didn’t explain things right. Usually he had to start over again and explain things better for her, but she loved sitting on the edge of her seat in suspense until he finally ended his words and she realized the story wasn’t as thrilling as she thought. But Harry sure tried to make things thrilling and she enjoyed that.

Honestly she thought it was more the way Harry spoke that she liked to watch. She liked the watch the way his lips moved first off. Every word that left his mouth wrapped around his accent and floated to her ears like soft jazz music. Every sentence was told with his eyes and lips and hands. And his hands were enough to watch without even looking at his green eyes or his pink lips. All of this was plenty enough reason to put down her book and listen.

And it all wasn’t fair really. It wasn’t fair that he offered so many things about him that were watchable and mesmerizing. And frankly Autumn wasn’t trying to lie to herself because she found everything about him mesmerizing, she just didn’t think she would ever ever tell him that. Or anyone else.

Put all the aside and she felt even guiltier that she had allowed herself to be let down when he didn’t show up for once in the month and a half that they had been visiting with each other.

So instead of dwelling on memories of being there with him, she tried to remember how things were before he had stopped and talked to her. But this only made Autumn remember seeing Mr. Harry Styles walk into the coffee shop the first time.

She remembered instantly getting nervous and fearing a flood of girls would follow him and take over the shop she had discovered almost a year ago. It was her home away from home. She knew some of the people that worked it and was always there during her free time to study and read and just relax.

She remembered noticing how nice looking he was, even in his holey jeans and messy hair that needed to be washed. ‘Maybe he prefers the greasy look’, she remembered thinking. Somehow it all just worked for him even if she really didn’t want it to. Most certainly she remembered begging herself not to think twice about him, because she was she and he was he and they clearly were not of the same world.

That all changed the day he sat in front of her with a cup of her favorite drink. She’d like to think that’s the way he bribed her into becoming friends with him and his killer looks had nothing to do with it.

Then out of nowhere she was returned to reality when the small bell above glass door rang and she looked up from her book that she was trying to read but wasn’t able to do so because she couldn’t concentrate. The anxiety in her brain seemed to dissipate when she watched him walk right over to her.

“Autumn I am soooo sorry I’m late, I had to leave an interview early just to get to this side of town,” he explained and almost threw himself into the seat in front of her.

“Oh my gosh, you didn’t have to do that,” she found herself saying, though all she wanted to do was thank him. Thank him for being here and maybe for also wearing that brown jacket of his that she liked.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to,” he replied giving her a full on smile that made her freeze.

“Oh..okay,” she said and of course she felt even guiltier now. But she figured it was worth it because it felt great to see him and she kind of figured that it had to feel great for Harry to see her to, if only just a little. With that thought, Autumn tried to convince herself Harry enjoyed their visits with one another. He had to or he wouldn’t have even showed up after the first visit. Autumn thought of herself as dull compared to him, but maybe that’s because her expectations were high since they had originated from the novels she read. Maybe since their first visit she had decided to read Harry instead.

;

Autumn had never really been a fan of tattoos, ever. She admitted she used to judge most people who she saw with ink splattered across their skin. And it’s not that she meant to, but she was raised by a dad who disproved of tattoos. It made Autumn want to laugh because if only her Dad could see her now.

If only he could see her sitting in this cafe across from this British boy who had the ability to make her think different things and believe different things. A boy who changed her beliefs and understanding of things. A boy who obviously had quite a few tattoos inked on his own skin. But all Autumn did was find herself staring at them. Especially at the ones that peaked out from behind his extremely low buttoned up flannel or the ones that plastered his arms in which she could see when he wore a short sleeve. She found it funny he had tattoos in the first place because he was such a kind soul. Maybe she had just never come across many people with tattoos who were like that and she rolled her eyes at yet another trait that made Harry unique. She could know that he was chalk full of unique qualities though.

Autumn had become so taken by the ink on his skin she wanted to ask the meanings behind the words and behind the images. She wondered if they hurt so she asked him one day.

"Some more than others, yeah," he told her pressing his fingers over his skin making the ship on his left arm seem to move, which may be her favorite tattoo on him.

"Well I like them," she told him straight out and even he looked a bit taken aback. She gulped waiting for him to reply.

"Thanks," he replied and she smiled shyly before looking away from him to the other people in the room.

It was then he explained the meaning behind some of them. He explained the people who had influenced said tattoo, or what advice had made him want to get something inked on him forever. And everything he explained to her made sense. Made he understand why he would want to carry a simple or picture around with him for the rest of his life.

It made her even consider getting a tattoo herself. Perhaps a song quote of her favorite song, or a line from her favorite book. And she felt guilty for trying to think of something she could get that would remind her of the boy with the soft smile and green eyes.

;

Harry concluded he was comfortable with Autumn, that much was certain. He was comfortable in the way they sat in the really uncomfortable chairs and took chances staring at one another for the longest they could before the other realized. He usually lost during his chances though because he was staring at her eyes for much longer than he should have been.

He was comfortable telling her about his life as if they had known each other since they were in diapers, and he wished they had. Wished they had grown up together and were both friends of one anothers families. Wished they had been each others first kiss. Even if that was too much to ask.

He was even comfortable enough with her that finally, finally, he asked her if she wanted to do something other than chat the day away in a coffee shop. And she seemed comfortable enough with him that she didn’t even have to think about her answer before she gave it to him.

“Sure,” she replied with a smile and Harry told himself he was comfortable enough that he didn’t get butterflies, but then he would have been lying.

So a few months after they had had their first cafe date, if that’s even what you could call it, Harry and Autumn walked out of their precious cafe and wandered the streets of London just like two love birds might. They visited a few museums and a record shop that Harry said she’d love. And everything was so new to Autumn, because even though she’d lived here for some time, she had never been shown the city in this way. She’d never been shown the hole in the wall places that were great for getting fish and chips or a great pastry. She had never been shown this city through open eyes and eager hands, but Harry had these things and so much more.

She felt it was a fair trade of abandoning the little cafe they had made their own, because they were easily making this busy city their own instead.

Harry even took her to the best book shops he had heard of. From the ones that were full of new releases to the small dusty brick buildings that had almost all of the old novels Autumn had spent her summers reading.

Autumn didn’t even notice that they spent way too much time cooped up in one of the bookstores that she was especially fond of. But Harry didn’t mind. He loved the way she scanned over a shelf until she found a book that caught her eye. Then she would open it instantly and run her bright red nail over the first few lines of the first chapter. Harry rested against a back book shelf and crossed his arms as she went about discovering new books. He restrained himself from reaching out when her hair fluttered over the old book she brought closer to her face. And he wondered how it would feel to lie out on a blanket with her while she read her book, while he held her in his arms and she’d read out her favorite lines to him.

He knew these thoughts weren’t harmless but he couldn’t help himself. Just like she got consumed by a great story, he had begun to become consumed by the way she spoke and walked and looked at him.

So while watching her throughout the day, he had concluded that he could have watched her all afternoon.

“I think I’m gonna get this one,” Autumn concluded nearly an hour after being in the old store, and after going through practically all the aisles of shelves.

“Only one, you’ve done through like all of them and only one appealed to you?” Harry joked, talking a bit louder than he should have been.

She gave him a look and then looked around seeing if she could find another book to purchase. All the choices overwhelmed her though, so she figured she’d better stick with the book she had unless she wanted to be here another hour.

“Just this one,” she said softly and Harry shrugged.

“Well alright,” he replied.

After Harry convinced Autumn that he would buy the book for her they walked out of the bookstore and when Autumn turned to thank him for it for about the millionth time, Harry wasted no time in wrapping an arm around her and connecting their lips.

Harry’s lips were soft and his hands were warm and Autumn couldn’t even believe it was possible to feel all these different emotions all at once and all at the maximum effect that they could be felt.

Saying fireworks had erupted inside her would have been an understatement. Saying the world had stopped during that moment wouldn’t have summed up a thing.

In fact, Autumn was so overcome by emotions the only comparison she could make to this feeling was when she had just read the ending to a really great book where everything worked out just like she had wanted with her favorite characters. But that comparison wasn’t even enough to explain things.

And even though Autumn knew real life wasn’t as pretty as a love story, with Harry everything felt grand.

So as Harry pulled away from the kiss after tucking her hair behind her ear with his fingertips, she smiled because she knew this was better than any book she could have ever read.

*THE END*


End file.
